


Three's a Crowd

by tatooinesun



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Domestic af, M/M, this is the fluffiest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4820171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooinesun/pseuds/tatooinesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke's mabari outstays his welcome in the bed. Anders has had enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's a Crowd

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little drabble I've been wanting to get out of my system. I've always thought with Anders being a cat person and all, getting along with Hawke's mabari would be pretty aggravating for him. And thus hilarious for Hawke.

Anders is roused from the fade by something wet and soft tracing the back of his neck. He murmurs his content, still halfway between sleep and waking before blindly reaching a hand behind him for the source.

"Since when are you a morning person Hawke?"

Not that he's complaining of course. Their love life, while not exactly on a standstill, has been sluggish these past few weeks what with the building tension rising amongst the qunari and the persistent summons of the viscount for his precious champion.  
Anders is lucky to occasionally get a kiss good night.

Hawke's only response to his query however is a deep grumbling snore that sends the dog lying between them into a startled pounce.

Of course. The bloody mutt.

With a disgusted snarl, Anders leaps from the bed, dragging the sheets and inconveniently Hawke along with him. The dog has enough sense to scamper away from all the panic and somehow ironically enough manages to be the only thing not strewn about the floor.

"Wazhappning?" Hawke slurs from the ground, limbs tangled among the sheets in a comical fashion.

"He licked me!" Anders shoves an accusatory finger at the mabari who merely wags his tail in reponse. Stupid dog. 

Hawke opens his mouth and for a split second Anders thinks that the hound is about to recieve his comupance, but instead he merely yawns widely before sleepily scratching his beard and burrowing deeper in the sheets, seemingly too tired to notice or too tired to care about his position on the floor. 

"Play nice children."

There's a long silent pause as he and the mutt lock eyes - he swears the dog is glaring at him - before Anders lets out an exasperated sigh before resigning to defeat and curling up next to Hawke on the ground. Fereldens and their mutts. 

***

"He's watching us again," Anders points out on a blistering summer evening. They've kicked off the sheets to maintain at least the illusion of circulation but he doesn't really see the point if Hawke is just going to cling Anders to his furnace of a chest and smother his neck with scratchy warm kisses. 

Again - no complaints there. If he has to suffer a heat stroke from being completely engulfed by his giant hairy lover then he supposes it's the way he wants to go. But the blasted dog has been eyeing them for twenty minutes now and it's starting to make the mage slightly paranoid if not utterly self conscious. 

"You're imagining things," Hawke murmurs from Anders's jawline. 

"Hawke he won't look away."

"Then don't look at him." 

A full thirty seconds goes by before Anders groans audibly and pushes Hawke off his lap. 

"Can't you just put him in another room or something? Just for the night?" Honestly sharing a bed with one enormous furry animal in scorching temperatures is bad as it is. 

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" Hawke mocks him, sticking out his lower lip. "Sure Anders you're no loyal war hound, but you smell a hell of a lot better than any mabari." He bends his head to steal another kiss but Anders pulls away with an insistent glare. 

Hawke catches his eye and sighs. 

"Fine. But only for tonight." 

"Thank the Maker," Anders says in an exaggerated voice, utilizing his best imitation of the Chantry clerics. 

"Not in the bedroom please." 

Hawke approaches the animal and crouches down until dog and master are eye-level.   
"I hate to do this to you old friend but sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Out you go." 

Anders scoffs. He almost feels sorry for cheeky mongrel. Almost. 

***

It's half past midnight and Hawke still isn't back yet. Anders has made a small indent in the carpet from where he's been pacing at the window for the past hour or so, worry chewing away at any amount of remaining willpower he has left. 

The dog's there too and for once, the mage isn't off put by his presence. 

"He's just held up somewhere that's all." He's talking to himself right? He's definitely talking to himself. Not the dog. That would be ridiculous. "He has Aveline and Varric. They won't let anything happen to him." 

The mabari barks in response and Anders bites back a smile. Stupid dog and it's stupid ability to understand stupid human languages. 

By the end of the next hour Anders is petting the dog's head in his lap, scratching his ears every so often in the places that used to make Sir Pounce-A-Lot purr. Of course a dog has nothing on a cat, but it's still nice to have something innocent and alive be content to simply curl up against him. Maker he feels like a traitor. 

"Making friends are we?" 

Anders jumps and turns around with a scowl which is quickly ruined by the relief breaking through his composure. 

"Hawke you bastard. When did you get back?" 

"Twenty minutes ago. We had business in Dark Town so I figured I'd just use the cellar entrance. Why, am I...interrupting something?" Hawke waggles his eyebrows, resting an arm against the door frame. 

"You have blood in your beard dear," Anders quips, quickly crawling from his place on the floor without a backwards glance at the dog.

"And it's incredibly sexy right?" 

"Go take a bath," Anders shoos, not before pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"If this is your way of getting my clothes off-"

"Bath. Now."  
Anders waits until Hawke disappears up the stairs before turning back to the mabari in his wake. The hound wags his tail at the attention but there's a look of apprehension in his eyes, as though he's waiting for some kind of permission. 

"Well come on then," Anders beckons before following Hawke up the stairs, pleased when the dog bounds after him with an eager bark and lick of his hand. "Stupid mutt."


End file.
